When I was about 9, my older brother had a close friend who’d spend most of his days with us , he was older than me, I believe 14, and one of these days, I had come home from dance class, my mom wasn’t home, my brother was out and his friend was home alone . I had come home by my school bus and layed down on my couch to watch some TV , and he offered me a foot massage. I agreed, he was like a brother, and my feet always hurt after dance class. I don’t know when, but I had fallen asleep, and when I woke up , he was touching me in places I knew I wasn’t supposed to be touched. I didn’t think he realized I was awake until I shuffled to my feet and got up, he acted as if nothing happened, and as I was rather young, I just ignored it, similar things happened with him a few times, and I finally found it in me to tell him to stop. It took me 1 year to gather enough courage to do that. He soon had a fallout with my brother, so he stopped coming around, I was happy , he couldn’t do anything to me anymore . I still see him a lot, but I always convince myself that never happened and that I had been imagining it. I know I wasn’t. The only person I’ve ever told was my best friend , and she stopped talking to me ever since my mother passed away, apparently she didn’t actually like me, and only befriended me because our mother’s were friends. She threatened me once to tell people I was raped by that guy if I didn’t break up with my at that point boyfriend. It was fucked up what she had done, but I’m thankful this hasn’t scarred me.
— Survivor, age 20